Actions vs Emotions
by PriyaLaLita
Summary: Drake realizes that he has done something wrong. And this mistake could cost him the one person he loves most. drake/jj.


**Actions vs. Emotions**

by: PriyaLaLita

_Smeared black ink... your palms are sweaty_

_And I'm barely listening to last demands…_

_You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex_

_A stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting_

_And I am finally seeing_

_Why I was the one worth leaving_

_Why I was the one worth leaving_

The Postal Service- "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight"

Drake Parker couldn't believe it. JJ was gone. Gone. Gone. Fucking Gone. The note was clutched tightly in his clammy palm. It read:

"Dear Drake,

I was really hoping that this would have gone somewhere. I was. Because I care about you so much, but…Apparently I'm only here for release. I understand…It's one of those few things I'm good for… It's sad, isn't it? Dee told me once that all I was good at was shooting stuff and fucking. He has this funny habit about being right about things…I wish that you could have loved me, but I understand. I was stupid to think that this anything other than a physical need relationship. I can't say I didn't enjoy it…So, I'm sorry for leaving, Drake. I just need to figure out why I'm so defective…

Love always,

Your Partner,

Jemmy."

Drake's hands shook as he lay back on the bed, smelling the mingled scents of sex, cologne, cigarette smoke and JJ's shampoo that smelled vaguely of orange and ginger. He should have know this was going to happen. He was just using JJ for sex. It started after a few too many drinks, and ended with the most amazing blowjob he'd ever received. It continued, usually on their mutual days off, Drake would get a little drunk, drunk enough to make him brave enough to get the courage to touch his slender partner. Make him lose enough inhibition to beg JJ to suck him off, to help him forget how much frustration and pain there was in reality. Another rough day at work, another bad date, another bill to pay… It all disappeared with JJ.

His thoughts came to an abrupt stop. But…he felt good with JJ even when they weren't fucking. (And that's all it had been, he could count the number of times he'd kissed the other man on one hand, including the time on the roof). JJ made him feel…comfortable…safe…alive. Every touch, even before they'd gotten together, warmed him, every quiet word made his heart flutter. But he'd pressed those feelings down and locked them away. He was scared of those feelings. It was one thing to fuck a man, but to love one? Love. The word buzzed in his head like a swarm of angry bees. Why did that word…that fucking word, why did he think of JJ every time he thought of being in Love? He slid a Newport from the pack, and held it between his lips, feeling the tingle of the menthol. He groped around for his lighter, dragging his thumb easily against the flint to produce a flame.

But the lungful of smoke he'd drawn in did nothing to soothe the anxious prickling in his chest. JJ couldn't be gone. A thin stream of smoke escaped his nostrils as he stared at the ceiling. He couldn't be gone. What were they going to do at work? What was he going to do at work? The thought of sitting in the Precinct alone, an empty desk in front of him made his heart ache. How? How could he work with anyone else? There was no one else he'd trust at his back in the line of duty. He beat himself up over and over again, How could he have been so blind?

"Maybe I am just a giant fuck-up." He admitted aloud, voice quiet and hoarse. "I treated everyone else like they were the only thing that mattered, and I never cared for them, and they always left me in the end. And now…JJ…I objectify him, I treat him like shit and he leaves too…I'm such a jackass." He hissed, slamming his fist on the bed, not caring about the sting of the ashes that tumbled from his cigarette onto his chest. "I have to fix this." he cried out, stubbing the spent cigarette into the overflowing ashtray. Drake rose quickly, getting dressed. "I have to fix this…" he murmured over and over again.

He splashed some cool water on his face and grabbed his keys from the dresser, staring at JJ's key on the ring for just a moment.

The he chain-smoked as the black sedan sped through New York traffic, heading downtown. _Please, please, please be there…_ he begged every god that had ever existed. The door-man recognized him, though eyed his disheveled appearance with caution, holding the door. The woman who was always at the front desk tried to stop him.

"Sir, you can't just walk up…" "I have a key," he held it up, and continued into the elevator. "JJ's expecting me," He lied.

She frowned as the doors closed. "Well, Mr. Adams stepped out for a moment." She huffed and went back to doing her nails.

Drake knocked on JJ's door, a sense of panic gripping his chest. _Please, open the door…_ He used his key to get in, fearing the worst, and looked around the spacious apartment. There were a few lights on, one in the kitchen to the left, and one in the living area to the right. JJ's piano sat lonely by the windows that had a glorious view of the skyline. Everything was as neat as it always was. He wandered in, quietly calling his name, leaving the door open behind him. JJ's apartment always felt empty and hollow, but now, it was oppressing so. He swallowed the lump in his throat and proceeded to JJ's bedroom. His iPod was still charging in the speaker-dock, he could faintly hear music echoing through. There was a suitcase on the bed, half packed. He slowly sat on JJ's bed, taking a shaky breath. He really was leaving…

JJ signed his name on the credit card receipt, _Jeremy J Adams_, in his neat, precise cursive. His name hurt him, strangely. Drake was the only one who called him by his first name, as opposed to JJ. He'd made it even sweeter by calling him Jemmy when they were alone. He was so stupid to believe that he actually cared, besides friendship. It still hurt. After years of Dee's rejection, of being used and abused for shits and giggles, he finally thought he found someone who cared. He walked down the street clutching the bag containing dinner. The thought of eating made him sick, but he knew he had to. He sighed, turning the corner. _I just wish things could have been different…_ He thought, nodding politely to the man holding the door.

"Mr. Adams?" The girl at the front desk called out.

"Y-yes, Cindy?" He asked, dragged out of his misery for just a moment.

"There's someone here to see you…he went up, said you were waitin' for him…he had a key so I didn't think twice…" She said as his mouth hung open a little. "Are you okay, Mr. Adams?""F…fine." he said softly, thanking her and heading to the elevator.

Drake sighed, holding his head between his hands, the note still crumpled in his palm. _This can't be happening… _he thought, right before he heard the door squeak.

"D-Drake?" Came the quiet call.

He picked up his head as he heard JJ come closer, eventually coming to stand in the doorway. He shakily got to his feet, starting at JJ. His hair was messy from the icy wind that blew outside, his eyes rimmed red from crying, bright blue eyes in startling contrast. He couldn't ignore the pained look on his face, his pouty lips pressed into a thin pale line, his cheeks and nose red with cold. He seemed to just peek out from the fake fur lined hood that surrounded him, He smiled softly, JJ sadly could never take the cold, too used to the heat of Los Angeles. Instantly he wanted to wrap his arms around him and give him all of his warmth.

"Jemmy…" He whispered, as the other man shook his head.

"What are you doing here?" JJ's voice, normally so clearly indicative of his feelings was unusually flat and empty.

"JJ, I…" He reached out to touch him, and JJ shied away, seeming to sink deeper into the oversized coat.

"Don't." His voice faltered slightly, sounding like a whimper.

"I'm so sorry…" he hung his head in shame, "I never meant to hurt you…I…I was just so scared of what I felt for you."JJ raised his head a little so he could see his face. His lips parted, but no words came forth.

"This is all so…so new to me…and I was _scared_. I never wanted to hurt you, and saying I'm sorry isn't going to change how I treated you. I don't blame you for wanting to leave…I'd dump my ass, too." He laughed shakily, fiddling with the note in his palm. "But…please…don't leave. If you give me another chance…I'll show you exactly what I mean…I will treat you better than you've ever been treated…I'll do anything you ask…" He tried to swallow the lump of unshed tears in his throat. "Please, Jemmy…I'm scared of these feelings, but I'm even more scared of imagining my life _without _you." JJ stared into Drake's green eyes, shiny with tears, and his lower lip trembled. "Drake…" he whispered, sniffling softly.

"Please, Jemmy, give me another chance. I'm begging you," He smiled a broken little crooked smile and reached out to him.

A few hot tears had slipped from his eyes and began trailing down his cold cheeks as he nodded. He practically threw himself at Drake and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. Drake's arms closed around him and he rested his cheek against JJ's hair. "I promise you, I'll never hurt you again." He whispered into JJ's ear.

"I trust you." JJ whispered back, moving his head to look at him.

Drake slowly leaned into him, pressing their lips together. JJ shivered against him and let out a gentle sigh.

"I don't understand this, but I know it's love…" he whispered, resting his forehead against JJ's, getting a bright smile from him as the note he'd been holding fell from his hand, fluttering to the floor.

Fin.

--

_Author's Note:_

_Hi. I'm PriyaLaLita. I wrote fanfics back in high school…it's been a _while_ let me tell you. A giant mix of stuff got me started again…making a new friend who told me she writes them, finding a box of manga in the garage, having no free time what-so-ever (and deciding to cut into work time by wasting time writing)…a whole bunch of things. But, yes. I am aware that this isn't a great fic. By any means. But it's just to get me back into posting. I always liked Fake. And I always loved JJ. My view of JJ is a little (lot) twisted, but that's okay. _

_When I heard this song by the Postal Service I thought it was totally appropriate, then, decided against it…but…decided the clip needed to stay even though it didn't fit _this_ fic perfectly. (I felt bad starting with an angst only fic. Ha-ha) But, seriously. The Postal Service? Two thumbs up. _

_So, my disclaimers, the postal service owns the song, Tokyo pop has rights to the manga, and Drake smokes Newport because they're tasty and _I _smoke them. Haha. I don't own those either, but I'd love one right about now. _

_So, please be kind, and remember what thumper's mother always said "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all." _

_xoxo_

_Priya LaLita. _


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